A Moment of Humanity
by elfgirl13
Summary: Alys Magner, Westeros' very own rags-to-riches story, has been friends or deadly rivals (depending on their moods) with Cersei Lannister for years. She has seen her as a queen, a mother, and a threat, but never has she seen her so very human until the day she decides to visit the queen during her imprisonment. T rating for mild crudeness.


Perhaps it wasn't ladylike, but Alys preferred allowing the whole of King's Landing a momentary glimpse of her bare calf to walking around for the rest of the day in wet skirts. There was nothing more uncomfortable in her considerable experience. She lifted the heavy fabric halfway up her leg as she carefully waded her way toward the Sept. The autumn rain the night before had left an enormous puddle in the middle of the square that was far deeper than it appeared. Alys' feet were completely submerged. She figured her shoes were ruined.

She never liked them much anyway.

On her left, Betharios forged ahead as usual, scarcely noticing the water soaking through her favorite cloak as it dragged through the puddle behind her. Brynden, on the other hand, looked positively miserable.

Normally when dealing with Cersei Lannister, Alys preferred to bring either Bella or Beony along with Betharios. Both were unassuming enough to pass beneath the queen's notice but could be intimidating enough that Alys need not fear poisoning. Bringing Brynden to the Sept for her meeting with the disgraced Regent had been a spur of the moment decision. Cersei was unlikely to pose much of a threat while imprisoned, and Alys had a sneaking suspicion that she would need Brynden's emotional support before the end of the day.

The Septon seemed surprised to see her, as well he should. It was common knowledge in King's Landing that Lady Alys Magner kept to the old gods. She was raised in the North after all, in the shadow of Winterfell and the Wall itself. Still, no one hid their bemusement at the idea of a Lady of the Reach maintaining her northern ways for so long.

"How may I be of service, my lady?" the Septon asked, bowing politely. Alys nodded in return.

"I have come to visit the queen," she said, her voice cool and confident. Had the Septon not been bald, his eyebrows likely would have disappeared into his hairline.

"The queen, my lady?" he said. "I'm afraid that is not possible."

"I think you will find it is," said Betharios, stepping forward and leveling him with a glare. The Septon looked nervous, but to his credit he held his ground.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but no one is to see the queen. The High Septon has forbidden it. She must remain in isolation so she may think on her sins and pay her penance - "

"It was not you she wronged," Alys interrupted, growing impatient. "Unless the crimes she committed were against either yourself or the Faith, I fail to see how you have the right or the authority to pronounce judgment."

"We speak with the authority of the Seven, my lady," the Septon replied irritably. He drew himself to his full height, which was far from impressive. "Any crimes committed against one's fellow man are also committed against the Seven, and it is the Sept's duty to - "

"Lock the sinners away with their only options being repent or go mad from your isolation?" Alys quipped.

The Septon turned red. "That is not the case," he insisted. "She will receive a proper trial. She is only being held until then. The Sept is not a dungeon."

"And yet even the gaolers in the Red Keep allow their prisoners visitors. It is tragic, Septon, is it not, that a castle under the command of a sinner like Cersei Lannister should demonstrate more mercy to criminals than the holy Sept?"

The Septon froze, his mouth hanging open. He seemed to have been struck dumb. Out of the corner of her eye, Alys saw Betharios bring her hand to her mouth in a poor attempt to disguise her uncontrollable giggles as a cough. Brynden, on the other hand, maintained his stoic expression. It was the one he used during tough negotiations, somehow patient and insistent simultaneously. She knew bringing him along had been a good idea.

The Septon wavered under the Swann's intense gaze. Having been on the receiving end of that look on many occasions, Alys knew that Brynden was not an easy man to refuse. Sure enough, the Septon sighed and kneaded his forehead with his hands.

"Very well," he said. "You may have ten minutes."

"An hour," Alys insisted. "Ten minutes is barely enough time for an introduction, let alone a proper conversation. And it has been so long since I've seen my dear friend. Besides, when she is vindicated and returned to her rightful place as Regent, she will either remember you as the man who prevented her from seeing me or the man who made her confinement more bearable. I can assure you that if it is the latter you will be richly rewarded. If it is the former...well, I believe you can draw your own conclusions."

Alys had no delusions that Cersei would be vindicated. The evidence against her was substantial and the fact that she used her body to get her way was one of the worst kept secrets in court. Even so, her threat seemed to work. The Septon turned pale. It was such a contrast to his formerly ruddy expression that Alys suddenly understood Betharios' urge to laugh. Even powerless and disgraced, Cersei still had the power to inspire fear in the hearts of men.

"As you wish, my lady," the Septon stammered. He bowed slightly, clasping his hands together to disguise their shaking. "If you will follow me."

Alys nodded graciously and smiled. A little bit of the tension seemed to leave the Septon's shoulders although he still looked terrified. He turned on his heel and led them into the Sept to Cersei's prison.

As far as prison cells went, it was not bad. Certainly it was nicer than the Black Cells, or even the bigger, more accommodating cells reserved for the highborn and nobility. Someone who was raised in the lap of luxury as Cersei was would not see it that way, though.

She looked surprised when Alys was led in. It had been a very long time since they were last together to discuss anything besides business. Since Cersei had sent an assassin after her, Alys had kept her distance. While far from disliking the queen's company, she knew better than to trust her.

Both women were silent until the Septon bowed out and closed the door behind him. Betharios and Brynden stepped back into the shadows as Cersei pulled herself to her feet.

"You were the last person I expected to see," she said. "I should have thought you would be rejoicing at my misfortunes."

"You must think very little of me, then," said Alys, easing herself down onto the cold stone floor and smoothing her skirts. She motioned for Cersei to join her.

"On the contrary," said Cersei. "I think very highly of you. Very few in my acquaintance pose enough of a threat for me to send an assassin after them while they are away from King's Landing."

"High praise indeed," Alys remarked drily. "But it looks like that secret has been shared with the world and you need no longer live in fear of me blackmailing you."

"I always fear blackmail from you. You know too much for your own good."

The two sat in awkward silence that seemed to drag on for an eternity. When it became too much to bear, Alys coughed and said "I hear Queen Margaery has decided to throw herself at the mercy of the Sept."

Cersei's eyes flashed angrily at the mention of the young queen. "Oh, yes," she said. "The wench knows what she is doing. She has spent the past few days 'purifying' herself and proclaiming her innocence to all who will listen. One look at those wide doe-eyes brimming with tears and the Septons' resolve will crumble like the walls of Harrenhall. She is much loved, this so-called maiden. They will take any excuse they can to acquit her of any wrongdoing." Her words were bitter, but Alys knew her well enough to recognize the respect in her voice. Cersei had been playing this game of thrones years longer than Margaery Tyrell, and while she had the Lannister arrogance (or pride, as Cersei preferred to call it), she could recognize an equal, though she would never admit to that.

Alys thought back to the young girl who had been left in her care during her time at Highgarden. Margaery had certainly grown up since then, but some things never change. Even at four she had the whole of the Reach wrapped around her little finger. She had a gift for getting out of trouble. Most often, this required someone else taking the blame. Cersei was absolutely right. In a matter of days, Margaery would be back in the Red Keep, dividing her time between her lord husband, the people of King's Landing, and her various lovers, of which Alys was sure there were at least two. As far as she knew, Margaery had been a maiden at least until her marriage to Renly Baratheon, but the young queen had always had an eye for handsome men. No doubt she had taken some knight or minstrel into her bed the moment she was out from under Mace Tyrell's watchful gaze.

"Why are you here if you have not come to gloat?" Cersei suddenly asked, drawing Alys from her thoughts.

"Can a lady not visit her friend in need?" Alys retorted, feigning hurt. Cersei actually rolled her eyes.

"We are in a Sept. May we not speak honestly?" she said.

"Well, I'm sure _I _could but I have never seen proof that you know what honesty is."

"From the mouth of a woman who lied and manipulated her way into a seat of power. I merely fight to retain my birthright and protect my children."

"If you truly wanted to protect your children you would have fled with them when Ned Stark told you too, not kept them here to be poisoned and turned over to the Tyrells."

Cersei flinched as if she had been struck, and Alys knew she had gone too far. As callous as she was towards nearly everyone else, no one could claim that Cersei Lannister was not a devoted mother. The Imp had once been forced to kidnap Tommen because when it came to her children, Cersei could never make a shrewd decision. Her children were her weakness, and Joffrey's death had broken her in a way that Alys had never thought possible. As she looked at her old friend and rival seated in front of her, clad in simple robes and a shorn head with all but her pride taken from her, she actually began to feel pity.

"That was uncalled for," she said, reaching out and taking Cersei's hand. The queen tensed at her touch but did not pull away. Clearly it had been far too long since she had been shown any kind of affection. "I apologize."

Cersei waved her apology away but didn't speak, fighting back tears.

"You're right," she said softly once she had collected herself. "Had I listened to Ned, my children and I could be somewhere far away right now building a new life. Joff would be alive and married to some nobleman's daughter, Myrcella wouldn't be far away at the mercy of House Martell, and Tommen wouldn't be trapped in the clutches of that...that..."

"Wingless harpy in heat," Alys suggested.

Cersei blinked in surprise, a stunned silence filling the room for a moment. And then, she laughed, and in that instant all the distance between them seemed to melt away.

"You are bold to speak in such a way about your liege lord's daughter," Cersei said, still smiling.

Alys snorted, an old habit of hers from her Northern days that she could not seem to be rid of. "Spare me your chiding," she said. "You forget I practically raised the girl."

"For two of her sixteen years," the queen retorted.

"Yes, but they were the most difficult years."

"Clearly you have never been forced to care for a teething infant or a willful boy on the cusp of manhood."

Alys shrugged. "You are correct in that assumption," she said. "Although I must add that you never had Olenna Tyrell watching you as if she was willing to have you whipped for so much as scolding the child."

Cersei gasped in mock surprise. "Margaery Tyrell in need of scolding? What impossible standards you must hold if you feel that such a sweet, innocent flower is deserving of your censure."

"Alas, I am the strictest of tutors," Alys said with solemnity, although her eyes betrayed her merriment. "Gods forbid that I should punish her for sewing a cock into her sampler."

Cersei arched her eyebrows. "Even I cannot imagine the likes of Margaery Tyrell doing something as crude as that. She may be a whore, but she is discreet about it."

"I can assure you, your grace, that her discretion is a recent accomplishment. I wanted her to rip it out and start over, but her mother insisted that it must have been an accident and made me give her new fabric and thread so she could improve. I believe Mace Tyrell saved the sampler and hid it somewhere though. He and Lady Olenna found it amusing."

"Yes, I'm sure they did," Cersei laughed. "No doubt the insipid Lady Alerie convinced herself that it was nothing more than a misshapen rose. Olenna Tyrell is a great lover of folly, and she would want to keep that as a reminder. I'm surprised she did not declare it her new coat of arms and have it sewn onto all her banners!"

Alys smirked. "Well, given the accusations leveled against her granddaughter, she may do so now out of defiance. Nothing angers the Queen of Thorns quite like women disgraced for adultery while their lovers are free to boast of it loudly in a whorehouse."

"As much as it pains me to agree with anything that old bat says, I think she has the right of it," Cersei said. "Here we are, two queens, charged with crimes that require no less than two people and yet where are the men? Why should we take all the blame?"

"To be fair, you at least did seduce most of them."

"Irrelevant! Women are expected to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders while the men get to fully enjoy its pleasures. A nobleman may marry for love but an unmarried noblewoman is nothing more than a pawn in the hands of her father and brothers. She is expected to honor her family name with no hope of ever holding the family title. She is not allowed to carry a sword or ride in a tourney or even hold land without the approval of men, or at least without facing their scorn. When a man is unfaithful and fathers a bastard, he brags of it to all who will listen, but a woman who does so must hide her shame or be ostracized. The world is against us as a sex, Lady Alys, and it is not fair."

Alys had nothing to say to that. She had risen from poverty to nobility with nothing but her cunning and intuition and Cersei herself had more power and influence than almost anyone else at court until very recently, but they were the exceptions, not the rule. Looking at how far the queen had fallen, Alys was struck by the sobering realization of not only just how fragile her position was but also how fortunate she had been to escape the fate of a lowborn woman. If highborn women's lives were difficult, then the lowborn were little more than slaves to the wills of both the nobility and the men in their lives. She thought of the story Jaime Lannister had let slip one time about how Brienne of Tarth was only spared from being raped because her captors thought she would be worth her weight in sapphires to her father. Not even two days later, she had been thrown into the bear pit with nothing but a blunt tourney sword for no other purpose but to amuse the men. She shuddered to think what would have happened to the woman had she not been Lord Selwyn's daughter.

On the other hand, though, Brienne was also the woman who could beat nearly any man in a fair fight. Lady Olenna Tyrell commanded the respect of her people in a way that neither her husband or son ever could. House Mormont was headed by not one but two women. Roose Bolton swore that Robb Stark's victories would not have been possible without his mother, Catelyn Stark. And rumor had it that somewhere far across the sea, a woman named Daenerys Targaryen was conquering Slavers Bay mounted on the back of one of her three dragons, freeing the slaves and determined to take back her family's throne.

"Our lot may change," she said softly. She ignored the look of derision Cersei sent her way. "Perhaps the change has already begun."

"The only way anything will change is if women begin to stand up for themselves and take what they want instead of meekly accepting their lot and bowing to the wills of arrogant men who think they're superior just because they have a - "

The door suddenly burst open and an old Septa entered carrying a tray.

"Your allotted hour is long past," she said sternly, placing the tray of incredibly bland looking food on the floor next to the queen. "It is time for her grace to sup and wash up for evening worship."

With a sigh, Alys pulled herself to her feet and helped Cersei rise too.

"I swear they lurk outside the doorway just so they can enter at inopportune moments," the queen muttered, brushing the dirt off her robe.

"This is why I keep to the old gods," said Alys. "No Septons to stare condescendingly when you take a moment to yourself and choose to read instead of waxing poetic about the Mother or something."

This earned her a wry smile from Cersei, who then surprised her by pulling her into a brief but sincere embrace.

"I thank you for coming," she said. "You were under no obligation. And yet you are one of the only visitors I have had since my imprisonment. I usually enjoy solitude but it can get a bit...lonely and quiet I suppose. I thought I was going mad."

Alys smiled and motioned for Betharios and Brynden to follow the Septa out. "It was no trouble," she said. "After all, what are rivals for?"

With that, she turned and left, not even looking back when she heard the heavy door slam shut behind her.


End file.
